Eventually they left the highway on State Route 12, and soon they were in Clark County, driving up a back county road through mile after mile of open farmland interspersed with patches of woodland. Here, Dema knew, it would be safe to open up to the forest dream. In a way it was like coming home.
After a while they crossed a short bridge where a sign said it was the South Fork of something or other, and Cern said, "That's his river."
Not much of a river, Dema thought, but then what is once you've seen the Mississippi. No wonder if it went almost dry in late summer.
Cern had her turn right into a stretch of woodland, and Dema was sensing they were getting close to one of the spots she had marked when Cern said, "Pull over here." She did and they gathered up their gear and left the car.
There was no trail marker or even a path. Dema watched as Cern led the way noiselessly into the woods, following nothing more than a deer trail that was all but invisible from the road. The forest here was a mix of pine and hardwood, with a dense high canopy that shaded out a lot of the undergrowth, so walking was easy.
Dema opened herself to the forest dream, to get a surer sense of where the marijuana plot was located. When she did, Cern's stag horns appeared. He was still following narrow deer trails, and seemed to be making the right choices, so she was content to let him lead, and see what more she might learn about the shaman talents she suspected.
With her forest dream open she sensed clearly that the forest was aware of them, too, but instead of being alarmed it was actually comforted by their presence. The forest animals in their vicinity did not hide or run away, but merely stopped to watch as they passed, and some approached them, cautiously but without fear.
Dema mentioned this to Cern and he said quietly, almost with reverence, "Yes, isn't it great. This is what I love about the woods. You come out here and you can't help but feel connected. It's funny, but the animals seemed to avoid most hikers I've walked with. I think it's because they were too noisy. I'm glad you're not one of those."
Dema said, "Me too. This is just perfect."
Cern continued to lead them unerringly toward the plot marked on the map. Dema knew he was going the right way, but she didn't know how he knew. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer and she asked him.
"Cern, how do you know where you're going? I mean, you seem very sure of yourself, but how do you know which trails lead toward the marijuana plot?"
In answer to her question, he only shrugged and said casually, "I saw the map. I know the woods. I've been in a lot wilder places than this. I never get lost."
This answer only made Dema more certain than ever that he was unconsciously following a natural shaman awareness similar to her own.
They were roughly three miles from the road when they found the marijuana plot. It was about three acres, hidden from above by a thin tree cover that allowed in enough sun for the crop to grow fairly evenly. Dema told Cern not to bother going into the plot itself, but to scout around the perimeter.
"The men who tend the plot will have had some sort of camp," she said, "A place where they left their gear, ate their lunch, whatever. That's where we'll find the best evidence."
Cern went left and she went right. In less than ten minutes they met at the other side, both shaking their heads.
"No one's been here for some time," said Cern.
"No, this plot hasn't had much care. I crossed the little trail they used, but its old and there's not much sign there either."
She showed Cern where the trail was. He agreed it hadn't been used for a while, and then only briefly.
"But the plants are doing well and will be ready in a month or so," she said.
"How can you tell?"
"Well, harvest time for marijuana plants grown outdoors like these generally runs from late September into October. Then look at the buds." Dema picked a stem off of one of the plants and showed it to Cern.
"When they ripen, the buds have little hairs called trichomes with a resin gland at the top. That's where the highest concentration of THC is. They start out clear, turn milky, then turn amber. They're hard to see, but you can feel the resin."
She rubbed some buds between her fingers. "These aren't sticky at all yet."
She passed the stem to Cern. He rubbed some buds too and nodded.
"What's THC?"
"Tetrahydrocannabinol. It's the active chemical in cannabis." She took a last look around. "Anyway, no need for a stake-out here. If we don't find anything useful at the other plot, we can come back for harvest time if we have to."
